Stryker
by Amphibios
Summary: Private Jace Stryker wants to follow in the footsteps of his ancestors and fight for his country. He wants to survive more than anything else. Follow him and his squad through some of the bloodiest conflicts of the Interplanetary Wars.
1. Foreword

**Okay, this is my first fanfiction, so feedback is welcome. Tell me what you think. A good author builds off of any type of criticism, baseless or otherwise. Thanks and keep on reading.**

**Disclaimer:**

**Yeah, I know that all of you are sick and tired of hearing "Buhngee 0wnz ahll tis krapp bhut awl oh-sees ahre mine." but I must. All things that pertain to the Halo universe are property of Bungie, and everything that takes place before Halo 3 is joint property of Microsoft Game Studios and Bungie. And of course, all of the OC's are mine. Duh. Now enjoy the story.**


	2. Chapter 1 Doing Their Part

**Chapter 1-Doing Their Part**

**June 5th, 2162**

**Florida, United States**

My family has always had war in its blood. My ancestors fought in World War II, Vietnam, and Iraq. My father is a medic in the Navy, and my mother is an ONI operative. So when I told them that I was enlisting in the Marines, it was met with little to no surprise.

"That's my boy," my father said, "although why you would want to become a grunt and not a midshipman is beyond me."

He winked. My father was really passionate about being in the Navy, and he felt that there was no better feeling than zero-gravity.

" Leave the kid alone, Mark." my mother smiled. She was away a lot because of her 'work', but when she was home, she always made sure that I was taken care of.

Dad rolled his eyes and said, "When do ship out to start training, son?"

"Well it's not technically _shipping_ out, I mean, basic is at Fort Osprey..."

"Don't be a smart-ass, you know what I mean."

"Okay, I leave next week, but I have a crap load of paperwork before I can travel."

My mom knows how much I hate paperwork. "Well that's ironic, isn't it? Didn't you say that you were enlisting to get away from all that bureaucracy?"

"Yeah, but it's a good thing that I have a great mother who will do it for me!"

"Think again, Jace. You're on your own."

"Crap!"

The next few days went by in a blur. School didn't seem as important to me, as I was looking forward to training. I couldn't wait to teach those Koslovics a lesson. I was sitting in my Earth Sciences class when Nick Gearhart tapped me on the shoulder.

"You joining up?"

That surprised me. Nick was really quiet and almost never talked, and I thought he didn't like me after I beat him out for the starting spot on the gravball team.

"Yeah, how about you?"

"Hell yeah, man. My cousins were on Io during the Jovian Moons Campaign. I'm gonna kill those damn communists."

"Excuse me, Mr. Stryker. Do you have something to share with the class, or do I have permission to go on with my lesson?"

Shit. I looked up at the teacher and mumbled something along the lines of 'sure go ahead' before he resumed his lesson on terraforming.

"One of the best examples of terraforming in the galaxy is Mars. Long ago, Mars was a desolate desert world that was uninhabited by life whatsoever. Due to the climate fluctuation and biological breakthroughs, Mars has become a bustling spaceport."

The bell rang and everybody filed out of the classroom.

The teacher's voice rang out above the din of shuffling feet.

"Remember to study for the test tomorrow!"

"Whatever!" somebody shouted.

The end of the day found me walking out into the bright North American sunlight. I started to walk home when somebody grabbed me from behind.

"How's it going, hot stuff?"

I turned around and smiled. Andrea DeSantis stood there in front of me. She was 5'9 of pure sweetness.

And she was all mine.

"Pretty good."

I grabbed her hand as we walked home together. Her dad had been killed in a car accident when she was very small and her mom was almost never home, so she always came home with me.

"Did you finish that textbook page yet?" she asked.

"Nah..."

"How come you never seem to finish any of your homework anymore?"

We turned on to Silver Creek Road.

"Well...I...uh..."

"Spit it out!"

"Andrea, I enlisted."

She paused to look at me. Her sea-green eyes filled my vision as she drew up close.

"That's great." she whispered. She gave me a hug and said, "Be careful."

We didn't talk about it anymore until we stopped at her house.

"You sure your okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, my mom's home today."

She kissed me goodbye.

Gravball is a game of speed. You have to be fast to compete. As a midfielder, it was my job to play both defense and offense and control the ball. Today I wasn't doing as well as I usually did; The defenseman stole the ball from me three times and I was 2/8 for shots on goal. After practice was over, I waited for my dad to pick me up.

So there I was, waiting in the blistering heat, when I was approached by Nick Gearhart. Nick was about 6'4, 205 pounds and solidly built. His silky black hair stuck to his neck in the humid climate.

"Hey." he said.

"Hi."

"Where are you getting basic training?"

"At Fort Osprey. What about you?"

"I'm at Fort Devens. You know Vinny Marquez?"

I nodded.

"He already shipped out. Went to some place in South America."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't he from there?"

"Yeah, he wouldn't shut up about it last week."

My dad pulled up and honked the horn.

"See you later."

I got in the car and mulled over what Nick had said.

Yeah, the men of Forestview High School was definitely doing their part to fight for their country.

I hoped that I could do the same.


	3. Chapter 2 Breaking and Making

**Chapter 2-Breaking and Making**

**July 21st, 2162**

**Fort Osprey, Arizona**

Fort Osprey is hell. Absolute, complete, _hell._ That was my impression the first 45 minutes that I was there. I got off the bus with about fifty other recruits and waited ten minutes before a drill sergeant came out and assigned us cabins. All this was done while in formation in 100 degree temperatures. Yeah, it sucked. Then we did the most horrible thing in the entire galaxy; PT. Physical Training. Lovingly referred to by the drill sergeants as "Play Time". Other synonyms included uber-suck time, hell, and call-your-drill-sergeant-obscene-names-time. After PT, the head instructor of Fort Osprey surveyed us.

"You men are worthless. All the morals that your mom n' pop taught ya are shit. Forget them now if you know what's good for ya. Here at Fort Osprey, we make men. Before we came make them, we must _break _them. The breaking stage starts now." He looked at us. "Now triple time it around the perimeter 5 times."

Someone in the back complained, "Five times? That's like seven miles!"

The head instructor sighed. "Make it ten and make it snappy."

With that, he walked away.

Shit. I can't breathe. I can't freaking _breathe_! What is wrong with me? Why can't I breathe? Everything feels so fuzzy. I looked down at my feet. They were moving very slowly. Very, very, slowly. The dirt track under my feet was moving, but the finish didn't seem to be getting any closer. We had all finished in good time, so the instructor made us run it again. And again. And again. This was probably the fourth time through, and most of the people had already passed out on the track. I knew it was only a matter of time before I passed out too. I forced my legs into a sprint, running faster than I would have ever thought possible in my state. I slowed to a trot when I saw the instructor.

"I'm done, sir."

He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak.

Before he could, I blacked out.

I tasted cotton. My eyes shot open and I sat up and promptly banged my head on the bunk above mine.

"Could you tone it down a little?" a disgruntled voice said.

He leaned over his bunk and looked at me.

"Sorry. I just blacked out at the finish line."

"Finish line? Yeah right. That's the fourth time I've heard it tonight." His deep brown eyes surveyed my face.

"You don't have to believe me," I said as I lay back down, "But I'm pretty sure I saw you lying face-first in the trail about halfway through."

He scowled and hissed, "Shut up. I tripped."

The bunk room was filled with a loud banging noise as the lights flicked on.

"Rise and shine, ladies! It's time to triple time it to the mess for some delicious, nutritious _slop_, courtesy of our wonderful chefs!"

Sergeant Koke was banging on a trash can lid with a wooden spoon. What a loser. We all groaned and rolled off our bunks. Then we filed into the mess hall and sat at our bunk tables. I sat across from the kid in the bunk above me.

"So why'd you enlist?" he asked.

"It's just in the family, I guess. My dad's a Navy corpsman, and my ancestors fought in pretty much every conflict ever. Why did you enlist?"

"I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time." He cracked a smile.

"Tell me about it. I'm Jace Stryker, by the way."

"Cole Simmons."

The next few months fell into a rigorous routine. PT in the morning from four to six, then breakfast, then a five mile run, then weapons class, tactics, and protocol 101. After that we practiced shooting and then stood in formation before dinner. Yeah, that's right, no lunch for us. Then we got seven hours of sleep, then we repeat. Day after day this went on, and I slowly found that the PT sessions were getting easier, and my shooting was improving drastically. Cole said I might be able to become a squad sniper. That would be fun. Shoot people's faces off with a sabot round, repeat. Sweet. Cole says he's more of an up close kind of guy. I said I knew why he was a CQB guy and he looked at me questioningly.

"Because as soon as the enemy sees your face, they'll drop dead."

Yeah, I piss him off a lot. Most of the time it's in a good way.

Finally, the day came. We would finally become Marines. The head instructor looked at us in formation.

"Well, it seems like we have some men here today." He turned to look at the drill instructors. "Good work. When these boys first showed up, I saw my self looking at a bunch of daisy pushing pansies. Now I see men. Honest, free, men. I am very proud of each and every one of you. Just know that today, you are all Marines."

Someone shouted, "Hell yeah!" and we all laughed.

The sergeant spoke again. "I have your deployment orders here. You all are now part of the 1st Naval Regiment, 3rd Marine Battalion. You will all be transferred to the UN _Peewee _where you will get your division orders. Good luck."


End file.
